


Engulfed

by Melkur_Mistress



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Discipline, Guilt, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Punishment, Remorse, Sex in a TARDIS, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-13 05:48:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19245073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melkur_Mistress/pseuds/Melkur_Mistress
Summary: The Master visits the Doctor and finds him laden with guilt at letting him burn. The Master handles it.------“Stay right where you are Doctor, do not turn around, I like you like this, alone, seeking me so desperately.”“Master…” the Doctor’s voice was diminished to a choked whisper as his hearts hammered heavily and confusion swept his mind.“Why of course, my dear Doctor, who else would it be, but the Time Lord you left for dead.”-----





	Engulfed

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first E rated fic for these two, please note the rating and tags! Enjoy :-)

“ _You let me burn_.”

The Doctor’s eyes flew open at the voice, just on the edge of his mind. His hearts raced at the unnerving closeness of the voice - that voice that had haunted his dreams since he had done exactly that. He had stood and watched, pushing the limits of the game they had played for far too long, his mind torn between the almost certainty that his oldest friend would survive, just as he always did...and the sickening fear that he had just watched him burn to death - and did nothing.

He sat up, the lights rising to a comfortable level automatically as he took a few steadying breaths in an attempt to calm the unsettled feeling in his hearts. With a long sigh he stood, pulling on a dressing gown and tying it in a secure knot before leaving the room.

In the console room he began the nightly ritual that always took place once his nightmares had woken him. He turned on screens, typed in algorithms, checked distress calls, flash points, anachronisms, evidence. Despite his best efforts, no such evidence was ever found - four weeks, four weeks of sleepless nights and checking, and he had no trace at all. He felt nauseous momentarily as reached under the console and pulled out what was left of Kamelion - now an 8 inch doll.

He felt it in his hand and stared hard at it, the memories crashing into his mind. The Doctor considered that if he really was dead, then maybe the sleepless nights were only a fraction of what he deserved. He shoved the doll back under the console and tried hard to push the Master from his memory - but the way his voice, darkly seductive as always, slipped into all the wrong parts of his mind was impossible to forget.

His hand slapped down on the edge on the console as he switched off the monitor in disappointment. He knew he should stop the constant unhealthy cycle of dreaming about the Master, waking, looking for traces of his TARDIS. It always ended the same, and his hearts hurt even greater each time.

With a sigh he leaned heavily on the console, his hands lightly gripping the solid edge as he composed himself.

“He’s dead, there’s never a trace because he’s dead.”

“ _And you stood and watched me burn_.”

The Doctor froze as he gripped the edge of the console tighter as stared ahead of him, certain his guilt and regret and longing were merely playing a cruel trick on him.

“Stay right where you are Doctor, do not turn around, I like you like this, alone, seeking me so desperately.”

“ _Master_ …” the Doctor’s voice was diminished to a choked whisper as his hearts hammered heavily and confusion swept his mind.

“Why of course, my dear Doctor, who else would it be, but the Time Lord you left for dead.”

The Doctor felt an immediate compulsion to simply do as the Master said, and remained firmly in place, desperate to turn around and look at him, but accepting merely to catch the most fleeting of glimpses in his peripheral vision as the Master stepped closer to him.

He swallowed as he felt hands around his waist, making short work of the sash around his dressing gown. He remained still, his body as pliant as his mind felt as the Master lifted first one arm and then the other, slipping off the dressing gown and disregarding it with little care, to the ground.

The Doctor tensed, his breath quickening and his hearts racing out of control.

“Master…. _Master_ ….” he spoke his name more audibly, but his voice was tinged with disbelief and hope and a touch of fear. “You survived.”

The Master chuckled as his hands slipped around the Doctor’s waist, his velvet clothed body pressing firmly as he covered the Doctor’s body with his own, his hands roaming up his bare chest and his mouth against the side of the Doctor’s throat.

“Oh I do like you like this, so willing, so obedient. How did it feel Doctor?” his voice was a darkened growl against the Doctor’s flesh. “ _Letting me burn._ ”

“I didn’t,” the Doctor swallowed, feeling every sense and every nerve on edge. “I didn’t want you to die.”

The Master darted out his tongue before sinking his teeth lightly into the tender flesh of the Doctor’s neck. His hands grasped the waistband of the Doctor’s trousers, pulling them and his underwear down in one swift movement, his mouth never leaving his neck for a moment as he pushed at the Doctors clothes with his knee, edging them down before kicking at the Doctor’s ankles.

The Doctor obeyed immediately, stepping out of the remainder of his clothes and kicking them out of the way.

“Please...Master,” he said quietly.

The Master laughed as his hands roamed possessively over every inch of the Doctor’s bare skin that he could reach.

“Oh all in good time Doctor, I will give you what you need, but also, you must be given what you deserve, don’t you agree?”

“What I...what do you mean?” The Doctor moved to try to turn round, desperate to see the Master’s face but found instead, hands on his shoulders and the weight of his body easing.

He felt not a shred of shame at the moan of regret that escaped him as the Master stepped back. The Master merely laughed, his firm squeeze of his shoulders, a silent command to remain in position that the Doctor obeyed, despite the way his hands shook as gripped the console edge.

He gulped at the sound of fabric rustling, and he felt dizzy at the thought of the Master slowly stripping behind him. He stared hard at the wall, wishing he had some kind of reflective surface within his eye line to catch a glimpse of the man behind him.

Preoccupied with that thought, the Doctor startled as the Master returned to him, placing his hands on his hips.

“Tell me Doctor, what do _you_ think you deserve? You stood and let me burn and you did... nothing. What do you think would be adequate to earn my forgiveness? Hmmm?”

The Doctor closed his eyes and swallowed at the Masters teeth dragging slowly over the back of his neck, and his clear arousal pressing hard against his ass.

“I...I knew there was a chance...that you had escaped..”

“Mmm,” he murmured, his hands snaking around the Doctor’s waist, his fingers dancing lightly, close to the Doctor’s own arousal, now impossible to hide. “Oh I am sure you did, but you didn’t _know_. You couldn’t be sure  _and still_ , you watched as I pleaded, as I reached for you, you simply chose inaction. Such betrayal simply cannot go unpunished, my dear…. _dear_...Doctor.”

“Un...punished?” the Doctor swallowed and closed his eyes. His every sense told him that he should not be doing this, not a single second of it. Standing naked with the Master, in _t_ _hat body,_ the body of Nyssa’s father...but he had changed, somehow sculpted the body to his own design...clothes too...clever as always. _Still_  her father, still the man who had taken everything from Nyssa - _what would she say?_

He was broken from his thoughts and gasped as something suddenly struck him across his ass. He startled and cried out, turning his head. The Master placed a hand on the back of his head, pushing until the Doctor bowed his head down, and tapped the hard object against his now tingling flesh.

“Now now Doctor, if you become wilful, I shall merely punish you further, and we don’t want that...do we?”

“I think,” the Doctor found his voice breaking with the struggle against the intense arousal he felt. “I think, you would rather like that actually.”

The Master leaned over and dangled what the Doctor could now see was a wide leather strap, in front of him. He smiled as the Doctor remained in position, catching a fleeting glimpse of the instrument he would be punished with, but not looking up to examine it. The obedience pleased him greatly.

The Master slid the strap down the Doctors back before tapping it against his ass teasingly.

The Doctor tensed every muscle in his body and let out a hard breath as the strap came down hard against his ass. The Master started lightly, holding back as he observed the Doctor’s reaction, gauging his pain thresholds, and taking in every small reaction of his body. He built up force and speed quickly, bringing the strap down repeatedly in hard procession relentlessly, his hand resting on the Doctors lower back, holding him in place although he showed no sign of wanting to do anything else but remain right there.

The Master kept going, striking expertly well and covering every inch of his ass before moving to the backs of his thighs, delighting in the small moans that the Doctor soon began to exhibit as the strap quickly reddened his skin before turning a deeper, angrier shade of red.

The Doctor gripped the console hard and began to gasp and cry out unashamedly as the Master wielded the strap mercilessly, giving another quick succession of much harder smacks, causing a guttural growl from the Doctor which pleased the Master greatly. Dropping the strap he grabbed his hips and pushed himself hard against the Doctor, pausing only to slide something warm and wet against him, his fingers probing slightly.

“Do you want this Doctor?” his voice was darkly sexual as always, but the words were a genuine question, a promise playing between them that he would not continue if the Doctor said no.

“I do,” the Doctor said, needing not a moment to think. “I want this, I want you. Please.”

The Master pushed one finger and then two inside, pumping the warming, tingling lubricant inside, until the Doctor began to thrust back against his hand. The Master smiled, and rubbed the Doctors reddened skin almost lovingly.

“Patience Doctor."

The Doctor moaned as he felt the Master pushing against his ass, one hand held his hip and another grasped his hair, pulling his head back as the Master entered him slowly at first. The Doctor cried out at the sensation of the Master buried deeply inside him and found himself desperately wishing he could hold on to the Master instead of the gently vibrating console surface.

Eventually he relaxed, feeling secure in the Master’s hold, and almost immediately, the Master began to move, drawing slowly back before thrusting back inside more firmly. The Doctor let out a groan of pleasure as the Master began to take him in long slow thrusts, watching him carefully until he could see the Doctor had adjusted and was comfortable. Immediately he tightened his grip on the Doctor's hair and began to take him hard and fast, pumping into him forcefully, burying himself deeply with each thrust as his body collided with the Doctor's  bruised ass and elicited sounds from the Doctor which spurred the Master on even more.

Soon he found himself drawing closer and made no attempt to hold himself back, his fingers digging painfully into the Doctor’s hip as he came hard, pumping into him, panting and quickly spent.

The Doctor held on, his instinct telling him not to come, and the Master watched in fascination at the natural submissive the Doctor truly was. It pleased him greatly to see the Doctor fit the role so easily and so willingly.

His hand ran up Doctor’s back, his hands cupping the Doctor’s chin as he leaned over his body and spoke, his voice a hum against his ear.

“Come for your Master.”

The Doctor came hard, the Master’s words slipping inside his mind as he became lost in the sensations of his orgasm. Panting, he slid his hands over the controls of his console, seeking flatter places to rest his hands.

The Master watched the Doctor slowly come down from his orgasm and stood back, satisfied that he had completely demolished him.

“What if I had died Doctor? What then?”

The Doctor felt tears form, and opened his eyes, the pleasant afterglow suddenly filled with the familiar guilt he had become accustomed to.

“Let me look at you, please,” he found no shame in his plea, his need to make eye contact simply overwhelming.

The Master sighed and stepped to the side, motioning for the Doctor to stand. The Doctor turned to face him immediately, stepping closer and looking searchingly into his eyes, a flood of relief at finally being able to look at him.

“If you had died Master, I would have carried that..for the rest of my existence, through every life, and I would never have felt...right, again.”

The Master found himself suddenly unable to look away, and pulled him close, his arms slipping around the Doctor.

“Contrary to what you would like to believe, just because I am in your eyes, _wrong_ , this does not make you always right by default,” the Master spoke quietly, his lips moving so close that they almost brushed against the Doctors.

The Doctor longed to inch forward and press his lips against the Masters, longed to run his hands over his body, to feel every hard angle and every inch of the softness of his skin. He waited instead, feeling that nothing could be more wrong. Not wrong because of who he was, or the body he wore, or any of the other reasons why his mind screamed that he _should_ feel wrong. He merely felt wrong to make that move because despite everything the Master had done, he was still Koschei, still his friend, and he had stood and watched him burn, and he had no right to take the pleasure of his kiss unless the Master decided he could.

“You’re not wrong Master,” as the Doctor spoke, the Master’s name fell so naturally from his lips, that it began to feel like so much more than a name. It began to feel, like the title it was - and he realised just how much he needed that.

“You're not wrong - we are both good and bad, and we balance each other. You toyed with me, as always, but I gambled with your life, and I am….” he paused, wishing he could look away from the Master’s intense gaze as tears began to fill his eyes. “I am so sorry that I didn’t save you.”

The Master watched him curiously, aware suddenly of the depth of remorse and pain that the Doctor did actually feel. His hearts rose at that pain, at the knowledge that the Doctor was so openly expressing his awareness of the depth of it all. He sighed and leaned his forehead against the Doctors.

“Shh, Doctor, there is no need for tears. I am here and you are here, and I think we have both come to quite the realisation tonight.”

“Realisation?” the Doctor breathed, his arms around the Master.

“Yes. The realisation, that we need each other, and that you, my dear Doctor,” he said as his lips lightly pressed against the Doctors, causing a moan which pleased the Master. “You...need a Master. Don't you?”

The Doctor ran his hands over the Masters bare back, every inch of his flesh feeling like a privilege to touch.

“Yes Master, I do,” he whispered, without a second thought.

“Then you shall have a Master, of that I promise you. You merely need,” his hand trailed up the Doctors throat and tightened very slightly, “ _training_.”

“Yes,” he whispered. “anything. _Please_ , let me kiss you Master.”

The Master felt a flood of heat at the Doctor’s words and smiled, “you may.”

The Doctor moaned in relief and pleasure as he pressed his lips more firmly against the Master’s, his tongue delving in almost hesitantly as he deepened the kiss. He slipped a leg between the Masters, puling him as close as he possibly could, almost desperate and wanton.

The Master groaned and took control, grabbing the Doctors hair and tilting his head back as he thrust his tongue into his mouth much more confidently and possessively than the Doctor had, pulling back only to look into the Doctor’s eyes.

“How you please me Doctor. I think the game is going to change... _considerably_.”


End file.
